Foster the Patience
by CCRevival
Summary: Sometimes offering a hand brings a friend. Some people like Zuko need something more extreme. Katara can never ignore someone that needs her and she earns that trust – not that it applies to anyone else. Starting from the cave of two lovers.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Zuko was angry.

But that wasn't exactly rare. It happened to him a lot.

Especially when he had to walk across the forest like a savage, depending on people's pity for food, having to listen to his Uncle scratching places that should never be scratched, and having to watch the same man offer him food with the same hand that was just doing the scratching of the unmentionable places.

Nothing like berries with old people pubes on them.

The worst part was that he could even bend some fire to get rid of the anger. And it was building up inside him. He could feel it, a little fire monster inside his gut, just telling him to burn something. And every time that nothing burned, the little monster got more and more angry, until all he could feel was that familiar blinding _rage_.

He breathed out, letting as much heat as he could without letting it glow red. It was satisfying, in a grim way. He would have to hid his bending, but they couldn't completely take it away. Thank Agni for small favors.

If Agni would only favor him a less insane uncle.

"Nephew! Look at this!" His uncle called, sounding just like a child. "These _kind_ people have the white dragon bush in their yard! You can tell _this_ is the correct one."

Zuko could only look at him incredulously, the sheer stupidity temporarily pushing out all thoughts. Even his anger went away for a second.

Thankfully, the healer smacked his hand away. She was probably used to dealing with that brand of stupidity.

"But-"

Zuko had enough. "Uncle! You just nearly _died_ and now you're trying to trying to kill yourself again for a _retarded drink_ when we should be worrying about just getting enough water to live off of! " Zuko yelled angrily, stopping when he had felt his point had been proven.

His uncle and Song both gasped, and he started to feel a little bit of a guilt creep up on him. Maybe he shouldn't have used _retarded_ on him. His uncle was always there for him, even against Azula, right after Zuko had insulted him. Sure he had some oddities, but Zuko could definitely handle-

"The white jade bush is _not_ retarded, nephew. I cannot believe... my own family..." His uncle shook his head in disappointment, somehow keeping the disappointed air while still scratching away at his rashes.

Zuko pinched his nose in frustration. Every time he tried to be better and more patient, his uncle just _pushed_ him.

"I'm going for a walk," Zuko decided out loud. He said it in the tone of voice he used to command his men. Uncle wouldn't argue.

"Be careful, nephew. And make sure to come back in time for roast duck!" he was told by an Iroh that was now covered in some medicinal paste.

Zuko ignored it and walked toward the street. The healer's house was pretty far away from any other shops, so he had to walk quite a bit before he reached any other people. Self consciously, he tried pulling at his hair to hide his scar. Ineffectually, since the hair was not even an inch long.

At least he was much less likely to be recognized here. Things might not be so bad.

He must have jinxed himself, because at that moment, he heard the last thing he hoped for.

"Stop here!" a feminine voice said rang out from the other side of the shops he was walking alongside, and it was filled with expectant authority, making even him want to pause. He didn't, out of sheer stubbornness to never do as she said. It irritated him further, the instinct. She was better than him in so many things, but he thought he at least had ordering people around! But no. This girl would away be the bane of his existence.

His sister.

Zuko gritted his teeth and crouched, trying to hide and get closer at the same time. He didn't want to be found out, but he had this irrational need to find out what she was saying. Only, Azula was doing that lowering of her voice to seem more dramatically dramatic by making drama, so he couldn't hear anything.

Of course, trying to get closer to the people hunting you wasn't exactly un-dramatic.

It was a specialty of their family.

But he was pretty good at being stealthy. He had trained for years, and even had real life experience against a whole fire nation stronghold. He could do a quick recon mission.

Looking around quickly, he made his decision. He would try to find out more. A very opportunely alone soldier later, and Zuko had stolen a uniform and had hidden the knocked out soldier in a bush. Only after doing all that, he thought about how obvious this would be after the soldier woke up, and how he and his Uncle would have to run from the town.

Too late to go back on it though.

"... so the soldiers on my right, you will go into the Earth Kingdom and post these wanted posters," his sister was finishing her orders, and was now pointing at a couple of waist high boxes. That was a lot of posters.

How did they even print those out so fast... they had _just_ run away from Azula.

It was probably just Azula's evil fear inspiring motivation. It made everyone under her command act like they were on super strength ginseng tea.

"You."

Zuko snapped his head away from the posters, seeing his sister pointing a hand right at him. Shit.

He tried to put on his most convincing simpering voice. "Yes, princess Azula?" He could feel bile coming up at saying that.

"I suppose my father has told you to keep guard for me?" Azula asked with a raised eyebrow. Anyone else, and Zuko would've been scared. Anyone else, and he wouldn't have caught the slight petulant tone in her voice.

He almost laughed at her.

"With your permission, Princess Azula," he bowed low, almost grinning now.

"As long as you know who's in charge here," Azula sneered back. "Fine. Just stay out of my way." Then she started to walk away.

Zuko pressed his lips together to keep the giggles in. That, or shoot a flame at the back of her head. They were both equally strong instincts.

"Actually..." Azula span back around. "Go back to camp and get me a messenger hawk. I need to tell the fire lord about his traitor brother helping his useless son escape."

It wasn't as amusing anymore.

He clenched his fists, trying as hard as he could to keep his anger in. He should have practiced more. It was extremely hard to do.

His sister, sharp as ever, saw this, and raised the other eyebrow at him. He was stupid. Very stupid. No one would ever show her that much insolence. As much as he hated it, he had to simper even more now.

"Of course, princess," he bowed so that his mask didn't show his eyes scrunching in anger. "Right away, your highness." As quickly as he could, without setting too much suspicion, he got up and set a brisk pace away from the crazy bitch.

But he made another mistake.

In his haste to get the hell out of there, he walked straight toward Song's house, where his Uncle was.

So stupid.

"Going to get Uncle to save your ass again, _Zuzu_?" she mocked from behind him. "You even got where the camp is wrong, and our flagis _right there._ I thought you were at least a _little_ less pathetic than that, but I overestimated you." He could practically feel the smugness oozing off her. "And that's pretty hard to do."

Red clouded his vision. With a cry, he turned around and attacked. Again, he could tell he was screwed, and this time he didn't even have his uncle to save him. It was just like she said.

She mocked him even worse than the last time, probably having remembered how he moved. He'd forgotten how much smarter she was than him. Not even bothering to use both hands this time, she just slapped his shots before they hit her. Each time she did it, he got more angry and less efficient.

It had been over before it even started.

Finally, she gave a tired little sigh and ducked under him, grabbing his legs and throwing him up in the air, making him flip and land half on his head and half on his side.

The only respite he had was that he was too angry to feel the humiliation.

She also kept up a steady stream of taunting the whole time, clearly enjoying her superiority, which was even more humiliating since it meant that she wasn't even bothering to maximize her stamina with the proper breathing techniques. He wasn't worth even that.

From the ground, he saw that she looked almost disappointed, if there wasn't so much mocking in her face. "I guess it's time to arrest you now," she said with the same fake expression. And then she said something that finally cut through his anger. "You should be grateful, you know. I _should_ kill you, but killing Uncle will have to do for now."

And for one of the first times in his life, he was afraid. And not for himself.

His uncle was in no state to fight, the swelling in his face still going down and his vision wasn't very good. His overall mobility would be impaired as well. Not only that, but Iroh didn't know that Azula was going for him so she would have the element of surprise. And his Uncle was so trusting. As sharp as he still seemed, he trusted Zuko to not get in trouble so he wouldn't be expecting anything.

Zuko didn't deserve the trust.

With an uncharacteristic clarity, he knew just what to do.

He put his weight on his back, spinning his legs above him and kicking out as much fire as he could. When the spin brought his front to the ground, he pushed off with his hands so that he landed on his feet. He caught his sister's eyes widening just the tiniest bit while she stepped away and he almost felt proud.

But he didn't waste any time, punching as much fire as he could at her general direction, pushing out so much of it that he lost sight of her after only a few seconds.

He kept punching and punching until he could barely lift his arms. Then he punched some more.

When he was finally satisfied, he bent down on knees, sucking at the air greedily. He had never thrown that much fire. His inner fire felt weak, like its fuel was almost out, but it would get better after a breather.

He looked up, and saw Azula had barely moved from her spot, and there wasn't a singed hair on her. He had expected that, to be honest, but it was still irritating. Especially how he knew, just _knew_ that she wouldn't show that she was the slightest bit tired, even if she was exhausted right now. It was to make him seem completely unworthy of her effort. He knew this, but it still worked.

_You'll never catch up_.

"Impressive," his sister nodded, looking around her at all the fire. "For a ten year old throwing a tantrum," she grinned.

Shocking even himself, he laughed, though it was dry and humorless. "Not your best insult Azula, but that wasn't the point of it," he grinned triumphantly. Just this once. "Look," he pointed up at the air

She scrunched her eyebrows, actually looking up. She scoffed. "There's nothing but smoke."

"Exactly," he nodded up at her, still on the ground. "And now Uncle knows something happened to me."

Again, she scoffed. "You're such a dumdum. I'll still have you captive, and he'll do anything I want so that _I don't hurt you_," she mocked in a sniveling voice. "Now stop being irritating and I'll kill him quickly. For old time's sake."

Emotions fought for control of his body, like they always were. It was the constant struggle he lived with A little Uncle in his shoulder was always telling him to do the right thing, think about what he wanted and to have the courage to do it; preferably with tea and music. On the other shoulder a little father told him that he was a disgrace and that he should be more ruthless, be more like his sister. That he shouldn't care at all about what his Uncle said and that he should do anything that was necessary for the fire nation to rule over the world.

But for once, his Uncle was winning. His sister was insane and his Uncle was all he had left. If there was any honor left in him, it was with his uncle. He had to do anything to keep that.

Yet, despite himself, he felt a tiny amount of affection for his sister. As messed up as she was in the head, he could tell that she was being kind, in her own evil way. He had no delusions. She would kill him without a second thought, but she really was that insane, where she thought she was being sincerely kind by offering to kill the person that cared about him the most a quick death.

Unbidden, a couple of the few happy memories they had came to him and he got a crazy idea. He didn't even have to fake the grin, thinking he was going slightly insane as well.

Maybe it was normal in their family.

Maybe he would be a better bender after he got crazy as well?

It's a nice thought, at least.

His sister saw his plotting face and laughed again. "Oh _Zuzu_. I can beat you no matter what you try."

The anger wasn't fake when he glared at her. As he got ready to chance it anyways—he didn't really have anything better—he stopped inching his hand up(which his sister had noticed) and his eyes flicked toward the woods. His face lit up.

He grinned back up at her. "You're not going to capture me. Uncle's already here to save me," he smiled wider and looked behind her.

He saw her eyes get big, then narrow in concentration for battle, lastly turning around to face what Zuko was looking at. She looked ready to fight, and her head swiveled from side to side trying to see through the trees for his Uncle.

And then Zuko ran.

He could hear Azula make an offended noise at the back of her throat behind him. He almost laughed again. Cowardly as it seemed, he really had no other choice. The only problem was that he had to run the other way, and he was getting farther and farther from his Uncle.

After a while, he stopped and caught his breath. He dropped on his back and breathed hard, exhausted from both fighting Azula and running.

And then felt pain searing through his arm.

While he was lying there, his sister had apparently caught up to him and thrown a fireball right at him. It hit the ground right next to him, and it sent him flying sideways. He was barely able to get up and start running again, his arm was hurting so much. When he looked at it, it made him want to throw up.

He knew his burns well and he would probably get mobility back, but it would be grotesquely scarred for the rest of his life.

Another scar.

But he was still able to get up and run, since he didn't have any other options. Even with his sister's taunting behind him, he couldn't stop. "So slow, _brother_," he heard her shout at him. "The more you run, the more I'll hurt Uncle fatso."

"_You're_ fat!" he shouted back childish and ran even faster. He had been exhausted a long time ago, but if there was one thing that he could beat Azula in, was being stubborn. She always turned that against him, but running was a simple thing. She couldn't trick him here, couldn't make him stop. He never quit.

The trees were getting closer and closer together, and it was getting harder for him to keep up his speed. The good thing was that it was probably getting harder and harder for his sister to track him. Letting his instincts take over him, he reacted without thought while maintaining the speed.

_Bush_, he jumped over the low foliage.

_Branch_, he ducked under a low hanging one.

_Giant Rock_, he widened his eyes and tried to slow down, but ran into a wall. He fell on his butt.

Groaning, he got up and looked along the wall, which he now saw was the giant mountain that was visible from town. He had no idea he ran so far. It must have been _miles_.

And he was so thirsty.

Maybe he should start looking for water. From a pond or something, like a common savage. With a sigh, he again thought about how low he'd fallen from royalty.

And then had to dodge.

He'd forgotten just how fucking _annoying_ his sister was. He'd forgotten that while he could run on sheer stubbornness, she could run on pure evil. Evil was the ultimate fuel source.

As he panted and scrambled away, he caught side of an opening in the wall. If it was a small cavern and he went in it, he'd be done, but he was already up against a wall, so it was practically his only choice.

Desperately, he ran into the dark, hoping against hope that it was a series of tunnels that all led out to different parts of the mountains, and that he could lose his sister in there.

The good thing was that the cave was big and looked to go in for a long time. He'd rather not do that though, so he'd try to keep his options open.

After a few hundred yards inside, he stopped and looked toward the entrance. He didn't see anyone following, which was weird. It would be very hard for anyone to sneak in there without him noticing, too, so he didn't know why it was happening.

He kept all his senses as open and unobstructed as he could by staying absolutely still. Finally he heard something and it confused him even more. He could hear the telltale sounds of lightning, but it would be impossible for it to hit him from so far away. Especially when he could see out there perfectly _and_ he was shrouded in the shadows so she couldn't see him at all.

The sound of rocks breaking was his answer. As was the darkening of his surroundings.

He had ducked into a dip on the wall in case the lightning actually reached this far without hitting anything, but sprang up when he heard the rocks. He caught a glimpse of the entrance, and it crumbling. He gasped in shock and dismay.

His sister had closed him in.

In a cave. A dark, scary cave where he was scarily alone. And he was scared.

But he wouldn't admit that. Just in the off case that she had some crazy evil plot with evil spies all around him, he refused to show even a whimper.

He did, however, go over a list of options in his mind.

1- He could try to bust himself out. While that would be by far the most satisfying option, he was already too tired, so he didn't know if he could. Also, Azula was on the other side.

2- He could try to find another exit by going deeper in the cavern. Probably the smartest option, but also the scariest. There could be all types of animals in there.

3- He could sit there and wait for someone to rescue him. Unacceptable. Both to his pride and common sense.

So he reluctantly did the smart thing for once. He went deeper inside, hoping that he could find _some_ other way. Otherwise he was pretty much dead.

He walked for a long time.

He'd been walking for _hours_ now, and he was thirstier than ever. He'd been attacked by wolfbats, he'd had to pee while holding up a flame to see—he couldn't firebend with his burned arm now so his arm hurt like hell the whole time he was holding himself—and he was more irritated than ever.

And he _knew_ that he'd gone past this wall before. He just _knew_ it.

Growling in frustration, he forced himself to pick up the pace, even though he was already going faster than was safe for something that you couldn't see. He could trip or not see a drop or something and die, but going any slower would let the desperation set in, and he couldn't allow that. He was already going on almost pure instinct.

And he was so thirsty, and his arm hurt _so much_. If he didn't get it treated soon, he was in serious danger of losing it. Then he'd _really _be useless. His father barely even had any use for him now—and even that was debatable. If he lost his arm, he wouldn't be able to fight well, no matter how good he got at firebending. Even if he became a master.

Despair was setting in, he could feel it. He was never going to get out. And his inner flame was going to be snuffed out in this dark damp place, just like any real flame.

He was going to die.

No. _Never give up without a fight._

He thought about his uncle, thought about him most recently with his face all blotted and still somehow smiling. He had to get back to his uncle.

Breathing just like uncle taught him, he made sure to pool the air in the lowest part of his lungs, as close to his stomach as he could. _Fire comes from the breath._

He roared and concentrated on making his flame as small and hot as possible, so that it would explode instead of just splashing against the rock. He needed to break through, not just heat it.

He heard the satisfying sound of the rocks in front of him breaking.

And then he heard it above him.

* * *

Katara was worried. They'd been stuck in this stupid cave for _hours_. All because they decided to follow the singing nomads and go through the cave of two lovers.

And now Sokka might be dead.

Aang had assured her that he had pushed her brother and all of the nomads out of the way of the falling rocks, but she still had that nagging feeling. Like _someone_ was injured in the cave. And Yugoda had taught her to never ignore her instincts when it came to injuries, because her bending would sometimes try to help her out like that.

Katara was pretty sure she didn't mean it in this way, but Yugoda couldn't be picky. She had told her this, and Katara was going to use it for her argument, and the old lady could suck it!

At least they had found the tomb. That was actually pretty awesome.

If she had to die in a cave, having discovered something in the process would make it less humiliating.

And it _was_ beautiful. The story was so _romantic_. The only thing that would've made it better was if Oma had killed herself right after making peace. Just to join her lover. Also to make the villages feel even worse about killing her love, but that was just her vindictive side coming out.

She almost swooned thinking about it.

Especially how they kissed right where she stood, in the dark. Just like their statues...

"Hey, Aang," she called him. Unable to stop her mouth. "I have a crazy idea."

"What is it?" he asked, his big childish eyes staring up at her.

"Nothing," she balked, "it's too crazy."

He insisted on it, and she reconsidered.

"Well, here is says that love is brightest in the dark..." she pointed needlessly. "And there's a picture of them kissing..."

"Where are you going with this?" he asked her cluelessly.

As much as she didn't want to encourage his crush, well, she really _was_ desperate. And if she was going to die in this cave, then she should at least have a last kiss with someone she actually loved instead of having had her last one with Jet, who she now hated. "Well, I thought that maybe... we should kiss?" his eyes widened and stared up at her in shock.

He opened his mouth to respond, but never got to say anything, because a loud crash sounded out behind them. They glanced at each other and quickly went to investigate. He seemed just curious, while her stride was more desperate. Ominous scenarios ran through her head.

Maybe it was Sokka.

They came across another circular door, just like the one that Appa had to knock down on the way there.

She quickly coaxed Appa to do it again.

When it opened and she saw the darkness, she paused. Loud crashing was always bad... maybe she shouldn't go in there.

They both stood outside and looked at each other, trying to tell the other to go first. They could hear a male voice, and it wasn't her brother or any of the nomads, so she didn't want to go first.

He might be creepy or something.

She nudged Aang, trying to push him inside. He protested. "Why should I go first?" he asked in a little voice.

"You have the torch," she hissed back.

"Well, you're the one healer," he shot back. "What if there's someone injured in there?"

Her eyes widened and she immediately knew he was right. That _must_ have been was what she was feeling earlier. Quick as a whip, she snatched the torch from his hand and ran inside, shooting back a quick, "stay with Appa!"

"Hello?" she called loudly.

A pained groan was all she got back, and she quickened her pace with a gasp.

"Oh, _my_..." she put a hand over her mouth to hold back the bile.

There was a man on the floor, right next to a pile of rocks. She could see they had landed on top of him and he had somehow dug himself out, which must have been an _incredible_ amount of toughness because she could see not only the bruises along his whole body from the rocks, but also an arm that had burn marks all over it.

That on top of the cuts from the rocks.

That poor, poor man.

After a few more seconds of staring she chastised herself for hesitating, even if it _was_ the most brutal sight she'd ever laid eyes on. She fell on her knees beside him, her hand right hand automatically bringing out some of the water in her pouch. Her other arm tried to push him on his back so that she could see how bad his front was. She almost dropped the water, having recognized him immediately by the telltale scar.

_Zuko_.

Again she hesitated and again she chastised herself when he gave another groan. This one had a particularly ominous sounding wheeze to it.

_Screw it_, she thought. It didn't matter who he was. Yugoda had taught her that. Healers always healed. It wasn't a very hard motto to remember.

She worked on his chest first, cutting away the clothes with an ice-knife. It wasn't as bad as she feared. He had a couple of broken ribs, but nothing shattered. He would be fine.

She healed that hastily, trying to use as little water as possible, which wasn't very good for healing, but she still had that arm to deal with.

And the arm _did_ need a lot more water. She made used the same technique on it, healing only a third of the flesh, but evenly, so that it would be able to heal by itself. It wouldn't look that different at first, but if there was healthy skin it would grow around the damaged portion and push the damaged skin out.

The reason that scars were made, was when a large area was damaged, the healthy area was too far to get to it and couldn't quite connect again. By having healthy skin a few millimeters apart from each other, it would be close enough to where there wouldn't even be a scar. It was one of the most advanced techniques that Yugoda taught.

She wasn't completely sure she had done it right, having never tested on an actual human, but it was better than nothing.

Then she ended up using the rest of her water on his hand and forearm. _That_ she didn't want to chance. A scar on his upper arm might be ugly—though that location could even pass as just rugged—but the hand and forearm could actually affect mobility.

Though it would be terribly convenient if Zuko couldn't use that arm to send fireballs at them... well, she couldn't wish that on anyone: not being able to use the full extent of their bending. That was probably the worst fate she could think of.

That, and he looked so pitiful right then. He looked nothing like the prince with a ship full of soldiers attacking her. Or the jerk that tied her to a tree and taunted her.

He looked like a beat up boy. Alone and injured.

Her heartstrings were plucked, and there was nothing she could do about it. She was sure it'd go back to normal once he woke up and started calling her peasant again.

So she just kept working.

The only break she took was when Aang came over to make sure that she was fine. For some reason that she couldn't explain to herself, she put his shirt over his face when Aang showed up, so that he couldn't tell it was Zuko. It was probably just the fact that Aang might tell her to stop healing him. Or maybe he'd want to watch and make sure she was fine, which would rankle on her, since she was perfectly able to defend herself. Especially in the condition that Zuko was in.

Either way, she sent him away, and she felt better at once. Which was weird. Because she was alone with Zuko.

Finally after almost half an hour of working on him, he woke back up with a groan.

Katara put the water back in her canteen, and then grimaced. She would have to wash it out later. She didn't want to drink bloody water later. Then she moved away from the prince, ready to defend herself from whatever his reaction would be. Whether it was yelling, or fireballs, or even tackling her.

He did none of those things. It was... interesting.

"Waterbender?" he asked in a confused voice, like if he wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming.

Maybe he had nightmares about her? Maybe about her kicking his butt in the North Pole? She grinned at the thought.

"Katara," she corrected.

"Riiiiight..." he drawled. What did that mean? "Am I dead?" he asked and tried to sit up. He immediately dropped back down, holding his ribs.

"No," she snapped, "and don't try to sit up. You're injured."

"Yeah... I didn't think so," he groaned again.

"Oh?" she asked, more to keep him talking than anything. She wouldn't get many chances to hear him where he wasn't a complete jerk.

"Yeah," he nodded a little. "I don't think it would feel like this if I was dead." He paused and clarified, "it hurts like a bitch."

Katara paused and stared at him wide eyed. Rude!

She made an offended little noise in the back of her throat and protested, "don't... don't talk like that!"

He shooed her words away. "But it doesn't hurt _as much_ as it did," he frowned. "My hand barely hurts at all. It actually feels– why are you putting water on my arm?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow. "And why is it glowing?"

"I'm healing you, you dolt," she told him in a brisk tone. She was still nervous about him blowing up.

But he didn't. He merely said, "oh," and then put his head back on the floor. He seemed so... apathetic about it. Nothing like the prince she knew and loved. Or you know, hated.

The nervousness was the only reason for why she did what she did next, which was try to joke with him. "Yeah," she cringe-grinned at him. "you know, so that you can throw fire at us with _both_ hands. Won't be the same if you only chase us with one arm."

He didn't laugh, which was completely expected. However, she at least expected him to get cranky.

Zuko didn't even as much as huff.

It was just uncomfortable, too, having an apathetic Zuko in front of her. He was arrogant, and angry, and a whole bunch of things, but never... that.

"I'm not chasing you anymore," he finally spoke, and she almost froze at that pronouncement. Just the thought of it, it just didn't seem normal. She almost _wanted _him to chase them, it had become so familiar. It was practically routine. Wake up, tend to the boys, help out a village, drive off Zuko. Lather, rinse, repeat.

"Why not?" she asked him and was startled to hear sadness in her voice.

In response, he just took out a piece of paper and handed it to her.

She gasped when she saw it. It was a wanted poster of him and the man that was always with him. His grandfather? She didn't think so. Uncle, probably.

"What did you _do_?" she asked him incredulously. "Try to kill your father?"

"Worse," he answered monotonously. "Failed to get the avatar."

Again, she put her hand over hear mouth. Even if she had hated him a few minutes ago, all she could feel was pity for him. If she had known that if he failed this would've happened...

Well, no. It wouldn't have changed anything.

But still. No wonder he was so angry, having a father like that. It was despicable.

"So what are you and your... uncle? Yeah? What are you and your uncle gonna do now?"

He just shrugged. "Run? Hide?" he answered. "I don't know."

He just seemed so depressed that Katara couldn't help but try to cheer him up. "At least now you can stop fighting and try and be happy..." He just looked at her blankly. "You know, have fun, get some friends, a girlfriend. Stuff you couldn't do on a ship."

Zuko just scoffed. "A girlfriend. With this." He pointed to his own face, and Katara could feel her pity reach unheard of levels.

She had seen his face, and it had always made him seem more grotesque. More... evil. Everything he did, the scar made him seem angrier, and that made him seem more like the enemy. She had never thought twice about it, except for the one time that she had a random thought about Zuko trying to spy on them, and how the scar would make him really hard to blend in. She had been grateful for it.

But now she just felt so bad about it. It must have been really hard living with that. And he was so _young_.

She had to do something.

So then she got a really crazy idea.

She started unbuttoning the front of her shirt, and Zuko's eyes widened a little, looking at her in alarm. She had forgotten how perverted boys were. She just reached inside and brought out the little container of water, opening it and taking the miniscule amount of water out.

"This is water from the spirit oasis," she told him, half to make sure he wouldn't slap her hand away and throw out the super important water, and half so that he knew what she was doing for him. He should appreciate it. "It has magical healing properties. I've been saving it for something really important... but..." she pointed at his scar, asking for permission.

His eye widened again, but this time, that's all he did. He seemed completely frozen. She could understand that, to a point. It would seem impossible if someone offered it to her. He had probably had a hard time learning to live with it, and her getting his hopes up... he probably thought she was trying to trick him.

So before he could think himself up a storm and then attack her, she brought the water to his face.

Zuko gasped under her, but she kept going. The water was difficult to handle for some reason, and it fought against the scar, like the scar didn't want to heal. It took almost a full minute, but finally all the water had sunk into his face, and they were left staring at each other.

Slowly, she saw him bring up a hand to feel his face, and she gave him a smile of reassurance. He looked perfect. Beautiful even, if she had to admit it.

He _did_ look like a prince, after all.

The only thing that looked out of place was the eyebrow that was still missing. But it was a major improvement, and that might start to grow back after a few days. Probably. They'd have to see.

She kept smiling at him, and he just kept staring at her. It was sort of unsettling just how intensely he was staring. It made her all sorts of uncomfortable.

So she chose to use the only comfortable emotion she could find. Slight irritation. She _had_ healed him and used her most important possession on him. He could _thank her_.

While she got ready her scoldy-bossy-mom-voice to use on him, Aang had sauntered up to them.

"Hey, Katara, are you almost done here beca- _Zuko_!" he sprang back about twelve feet on recognizing him., putting his hands up to defend. Then he looked at Katara. "Katara! That's _Zuko_!"

Katara just rolled her eyes. Yes, I think I recognized him myself, thanks."

"Oh," Aang brought down his hands. "You're healing him," he stated, but it sounded more like a question.

"He was really hurt," Katara informed him.

"Yeah, but..."

"Hey, _you're_ the one that made us save him in the North Pole. The rest of us were ready to let him die," Katara argued. Then looked at Zuko quickly. "No offense," she added. He, however, didn't seem to be paying attention to anything being said. He still had his hand on his face, and he was still staring at her unblinkingly.

Seriously. He should blink. She had _just _healed that eye, he wasn't going to ruin it by drying the eye to injury.

"Oh," Aang repeated. "How injured is he, does he need to travel with us for a little while?"

Zuko finally seemed to snap out of it and he started shaking his head, but she cut him off. "Yes," she said firmly. "I need to get more water and finish healing his arm and his ribs."

The prince in question blinked his eyes and—surprise—looked at her weirdly. At least he was blinking this time.

She _knew_ it had to hurt to not blink that much, because he was pretty much doing nothing but blinking at her now. Boys were so stupid.

"Okay," Aang sighed. He didn't look that happy about it, which was completely understandable. Katara herself wasn't... why was she happy about this?

She shouldn't be happy...

It probably just her healer instincts wanting to make sure that her patient didn't have a relapse of—oh, who was she kidding. She felt bad for him. She wanted to make him smile, that's how sad it was. She pitied him with a pitiful amount of pity.

And she didn't even care. She didn't even know where the scar had come from. But she was sure when she found out she would feel even worse, and then she'd want to tuck him in at night, and bring him seal-milk and tell him _nice_ non-firenation bedtime stories where everything was happy and nobody died or ended with a village being burned down.

"Come on," she told Zuko with what she thought was a reassuring smile, but it just made him stare even more oddly at her. She'd work on that.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They were staring at him. Both Katara and the Avatar were staring at him. They were still walking through the cave, trying to find a way out. Zuko was itching to bring up a flame, even though he could see fine with the crystals.

When Katara deemed him ready to be moved—ignoring all his protests—the avatar told them to turn off the torch. Katara did so, seemingly trusting to do whatever the little monk told her to do.

Zuko immediately brought a flame back up.

Both of them had told him repeatedly to drop it, but wouldn't tell him _why_. Katara kept telling him that the avatar said so(she had said his name, but Zuko refused to act that familiar) and the avatar just kept saying, "_trust me_, just turn off the flame."

Well, Zuko didn't trust him. They acted like Zuko just wasn't understanding what the simple command of _turn off a light_ meant when they weren't getting what _no_ meant_. '_No' was the simpler sentence.

It finally took Katara to convince him to do it.

She had looked at him with big pleading blue eyes and had stepped a little closer to him. The avatar had still been jabbering about something, but Katara had stopped arguing. He was so confused about what she was doing that he didn't even move away when she gently closed the palm that had fire in it.

The cave had gone dark and the hand on his prevented him from trying to light another fire. For some reason, he didn't immediately shake her off. It actually took him a few seconds for him to get annoyed, which was a few seconds more than it usually took.

Just as he was about to take his hand back, he started to see her.

Reflexively, he looked up, to try and discern the source of the light, and saw some weird soft light coming from the ceiling.

It was a nice glow, a warm glow; one that made him think of his mother. He had a small flashback to when he was little and his mother would wave glowing fire-roses in his face. They had a similar glow to them.

Unbidden, a small smile appeared on his face at the memory.

It was painful, thinking about his mom, but he tried his best to not let it get him down. When he turned back to his... companions, he found them gaping at him.

He glanced at them repeatedly to let them know he was aware of their staring, but they didn't look away. Both of them were staring at him with some kind of deep, wide eyed incredulity.

It was freaking him out.

"Would you _stop_!?" he snapped at them.

While the avatar looked away hastily, Katara took a little bit longer. When he glanced at her, he saw that she had a small pout on her face.

He immediately felt guilty, and he hated it.

All of his emotions were so mixed up when it came to her. Whenever he so much as looked at her, his mind fluctuated between disgust at her obvious igloo-peasant origins and Agni forbid it... _liking_ her.

He looked away from her and grimaced. He just had to pick one. Once he chose one, things would gt easier, if not better.

One of the things that made it so difficult for him to choose—and there were many—was her choice to travel with the avatar. She was one of the reasons why he wasn't home yet. A few times, because of her, he had failed to capture the avatar. She was directly responsible for his failure.

On the other hand, with his face... he couldn't help but feel this overwhelming _gratitude_ towards her. When he thought about it more rationally, from her point of view, _he_ was the one in the wrong. She had done nothing but defend her friend. Had she willingly given the avatar over, he would have lost all respect for her. So if she technically done nothing wrong, he had attacked her multiple times and then _still_ chose to heal him... well, he coudln't even fathom why.

No one had showed him that kind of compassion excepting his uncle. And his uncle was all he had left. Except now he had Katara as well?

No, they said it themselves. They're just making him travel with them for a bit until he was completely healed, and even then it was on Katara's insistence. She would listen to the others when they kicked him out. She wouldn't pick him over them.

And when she told him to leave, he'd be free to take the avatar and forget about her.

Yes. That was a good plan.

He'd take the annoying little kid when she wasn't looking and then he wouldn't have to look at those big sad eyes asking _why, zuko. Why would you do this-_

Now he was making himself angry. Some smoke blew out of his nose, and Katara stopped pouting and made a face. At least it made her stop doing that, so he guessed it was worth something.

_Oh, for fuck's sakes_, he cursed, she was cross at him now. Not only was the pout back—with a vengeance too—but she had her arms crossed and was pointedly looking away from him.

What a child.

And it was making him feel even worse.

He definitely wasn't going to apologize though—that was a given—so he had to think of something else to make the guilty feeling go away. Maybe he could do something nice for her? Just to feel better himself, not for any selfless reason. He saw the opportunity when he noticed her rub her arms slightly in the guise of still acting mad.

So, giving a big great sigh to show his reluctance, he limped over to her and put a finger on her arm. Concentrating, he let some of his inner flame spread the warmth through his arm and down her body. She had opened her mouth to protest, but closed it with a snap when she must have felt what he was doing.

With a great big sigh of her own, she moaned, "Oh, that is _heavenly_."

Zuko smirked, proud of his bending, and moved away from her. He felt tons better. Even better than he remembered any time recently...

"You're forgiven, Zuko," Katara smiled at him.

Zuko's smile dropped and he bristled. "I never apologized."

"You didn't have to. I know what that meant." Her tone was slightly smug and that rankled on him even further.

"It was not! You- I- your shivering was just annoying me," he stumbled for an excuse.

If anything, his stuttering made Katara get even more smug. "Annoying you with _guilt_, maybe?"

Yes. "No! Annoying me with... with...filthy peasant-ness and..." the fact that he couldn't think of anything even remotely believable annoyed him just as much as the waterbender did, so he ended up snapping, "you're so _infuriating!_"

The girl snapped just as quickly. "And you're so _stubborn!_"

They had both whirled around to face the other, their faces only inches apart and they were breathing harshly on each other. He was sure she could feel the hot smoke coming out of his nose, just as he could feel the cooled air that came out of hers.

She was right, in a way, though he wouldn't admit it. He was stubborn enough to keep glaring at her until she caved. He was going to win _this_ one. Water was yielding, and that meant she would be the one to flow around and let him win.

On the other hand, her eyes looked like ice chips, equally sharp and unyielding. But heat melts ice, and he wasn't about to give any doubts about his strength-and he was spending way too much time with his uncle. Now he, too, was thinking in analogies.

Still, even if he was injured, he wasn't _weak_ so he wasn't going to give up. So they kept staring, and he could tell that neither were going to concede defeat.

Because it wasn't just a glare. This was much more important than just their tempers. This could set the stage for all their future dealings. Leaders all over the world and its history did this same song and dance to settle disputes. A very time honored tradition to solve the world's most important, life changing decisions.

They were having a blinking contest.

The only problem—other than how childish he felt, though that was hardly the important thing—was that his newly healed eye was itching like crazy. He was going to lose, he could feel it. His left eye was twitching and trying to close against his will.

Katara, no doubt seeing her victory close, started to smirk at him. That just rankled on him further, making him breathe harshly in anger. The movement sent pain through his lungs, making him wince and close his eyes in pain.

He felt Katara grab him and hold him up before he had any time to crumble. She was careful to grab him by the shoulder, not putting any force on his ribs. It was kind of impressive that she was holding him up since he must have weighed twice as much as her.

"Here," she grunted from the effort. His eyes opened to see her move herself underneath his arm—the uninjured side—and she placed his arm around her shoulder. She was the perfect height so that he could put his weight on her without having to slouch or having to raise his arms uncomfortably high.

"Can I help?" the avatar piped up.

He and Katara looked at each other. She was looking at him in a hesitant way that said _want his help?_ And he tried to look at her in a forceful way that said _are you kidding me? The only use he can be is if I use his head as a cane_. It took years of general grumpiness to be able to convey that many words with just a sarcastic look.

Either way, Katara seemed to take the hint. "I'll tell you when I get tired, Aang," she demurred to Aang, and Zuko nodded in approval at the efficient brushoff.

They fell into step after that without fuss. It was actually a little nice for Zuko to be able to lean on Katara. He had been getting tired, but didn't want to say anything.

It made him feel somewhat happy, for some reason.

"I still won, by the way," Katara's voice cut the silence with reaffirmed smugness.

"Shut up!" Zuko immediately fumed, his good mood instantly gone. "You probably cheated with your waterbending!"

"How in the _world_ can I even cheat with waterbending..."

* * *

Zuko wasn't really angry.

Yeah, it surprised him, too.

It was especially surprising to him, considering he had been arguing with Katara just ten minutes earlier. He didn't know exactly how it happened. The argument got somewhat childish as well, which was bound to happen when talking to that girl.

He argued that Katara had used waterbending on his eyes to dry them. She immaturely argued that he used his firebending to become an idiot. He wittily argued that she used her waterbending to dry the air around his face. She argued that he used his firebending to get dropped on his head as a child.

He argued that that didn't even make sense.

Aang butt in and argued that arguing was bad. Also they should get along instead.

Zuko and Katara both argued that he should stick his conveniently smooth, bald head deep into his own ass. (Katara phrased it differently and frowned disapprovingly at his language.)

He stared at her, not the least bit ashamed. She might be able to make him feel guilty about a lot of things, but not about cursing.

Contrary to what he thought she'd do, she snorted. It looked like she tried to hold it in, but finally had to let it out. Then she looked at him, her expression saying _alright, that was witty._

And it was, if he said so himself.

Seeing her snort and smile at him with reluctant amusement made him feel extremely proud. Doing it while insulting the avatar was just the snail-cherry on top.

So yeah, Zuko wasn't angry at all.

As surprising at that was, he wished he was angry again, if that could make all these _feelings_ go away. All of them because of Katara. It was mind boggling. All of their interactions were mind boggling, the last one right up there.

Later, he would blame it on the extreme amount of events that happen that day, which in turn made him extremely emotional. Otherwise he would have never done the level of introspection that did. He was usually emotionally constipated and actively bottled everything up.

Yet right then, having a girl holding his weight and pain flaring up his arm very few steps, he dove right in to his feelings.

He found that gratefulness, guilt, shame and even a very faint sense of acceptance battled within him. He took his time going through them.

Gratefulness. That one was the most obvious and easy to understand, so he started there. The girl had healed his face. His scar was gone. The mark that he was sure he'd have to carry for the rest of his life was gone. In a naively impulsive move, Katara had given him a giant second chance to do anything he wanted.

Before, even if he had become firelord, his past shame and weakness would be present for all to see. Right on his face, and he thought it would be there forever. That's the word he always thought of when looking in a mirror—whenever he couldn't avoid it. Forever.

It was a word that was sometimes debilitating in its humiliation.

Katara had looked forever in the face and told it to go to hell. For that, she would always have his respect and gratefulness, even if he never joined her.

And he wasn't sure he would, which made him think about his next feeling.

Guilt. Katara healed him, helped him walk, _defended him_... and he was planning on how to take her friend. All of this _after _he had relentlessly attacked her and her friends over and over for months. She had no reason to show him any kindness whatsoever, which she did anyways, and he wanted to take advantage of all that.

She had no reason to heal him, just like she had no reason to help him walk.

What really drove this into him were all the little things that reminded him of what she did for him. For example, she and the avatar sounded different. At first he thought it was a weird echo from being in a cave, but when he spoke _he_ sounded different. Yet he knew he would be able to recognize his and their voices had he heard it. It was like their voices had something more on top of them. Then he realized it.

His ear. It had been mangled, and while his ear canal hadn't been injured, his actual ear was, and that must have affected him some way. He supposed the ear was shaped like that for a reason, to maybe collect sound? Either way, his hearing was sharper than ever. Same with his eye. He hadn't realized just how much peripheral vision he was missing on that side. He was jumping at every little movement on that side.

Each one of those little things made him wonder at his new vision, which in turn made him think about Katara healing him, which in turn made him feel like crap. He knew he didn't deserve her kindness, which brought him to...

Shame. Even if he _wanted_ to join them, which he definitely didn't want, since if he did it would be with extreme reluctance... why would they _let_ him? He had nothing to offer them. He had focused so long on fighting that he didn't have anything else to offer. He had learned pretty fast that he was useless at hunting, cooking, cleaning, healing, _talking to people in any way_.

Why would they ever want him to join them. Why would _Katara_ want him to join them. He would have to really prove himself to them, and he wasn't sure he wanted to do that, _could_ do that. So they had no reason to even let him be around them, and they would tell him to leave, and she would tell him to leave...

Except... she'd been the opposite so far. And that brought him to the last point. Something that should've been inconsequential in his decision. The decision that would probably direct the rest of his life, would shape his fate, tell if he would ever be able to take up his throne... And yet as much as it would compromise him, it was probably the most important to him.

Acceptance. Katara made him feel accepted. It felt like he had been searching for it for ages, snivelling and sucking up to his father, and now a bossy little waterbender was shoving it in his face.

His uncle accepted him, he knew that. But Iroh couldn't give him his honor back, he couldn't make Zuko feel better every time a scowl stretched the skin on his face painfully—which made him scowl harder—he couldn't _take his scar away_.

But Katara had. And for the first time, his mind couldn't defend his father quite as vehemently. The old arguments started to seem half hearted. His own loyalty to his father seemed forced. His sister seemed a little more insane...

How in the world did waterbender peasants have a more normal family than him?

And he could already tell her family was more normal, just from how comfortable she was around other people, without even having to make everyone around her scared, like his family. In a way, how Katara had been arguing with him, in such a familiar way, made him feel more comfortable than if she had told him how much she cared about him. It wasn't fake and she was treating him like she treated the avatar a few minutes ago, by arguing whatever point she promoted until she either won or crashed spectacularly. He himself did the same thing, so that made him feel more at home with her.

Which in turn made him extremely uncomfortable again.

And that just made him angry, so he guessed he got what he wished. Unsurprisingly, it didn't make him feel any better.

Their current conversation wasn't helping him at all, either.

The avatar was looking at Katara with shock and accusation, and for some reason that bothered Zuko, even discounting the topic. "You used all of the _spirit water?_ On _Zuko_?" the bald kid asked again, his voice going higher than even Ty Lee's.

Katara had looked slightly guilty at the accusation of wasting water, even shuffling a little under his arm. Then the avatar said Zuko's name, as if he wasn't worth it(which he knew he wasn't) and he felt Katara tense.

"Pakku gave that water to _me_," Katara growled at the kid. "It was meant for healing, and that's exactly what I used it for." No one said anything for a few seconds. Zuko himself wanted to break it, even though he barely cared at all about their little squabbles. Eventually, Katara snapped. "So what's the problem?!"

"Nothing, nothing," the kid shuffled while he hastily backed up . He looked like he really didn't want to argue, but at the same time couldn't hold it all in. "But he probably meant it for someone else! Not Zuko..."

Again, he felt Katara straighten even more. It made him feel kind of good for some reason. "Are you saying that he deserves it less than we do? That he _suffered_ less than we have?" Okay, it was definitely making feel a small warmth, like his inner flame was flickering bigger. "I thought you were the _avatar_, protector of the whole world and all that!"

Then, in what she probably meant to be a storm off, she quickened her pace, dragging him along faster than was comfortable for him. He didn't complain though. One, she looked pissed off and he didn't want to get yelled at. Two, he was kind of enjoying the avatar getting told off like that. And third, she had stuck up for him...

Well, that made his decision lean toward one side, and he _really_ didn't like that side. It meant never going back to the fire nation, being called a traitor and maybe even having to fight his people.

Except... he was _already_ not allowed back in the fire nation, he was _already_ called a traitor and he _already_ had to fight off his own people when they tried to arrest him. So what did he really have to lose?

He peeked at the avatar again. Opportunity. That's what he'd lose. Right then, he _could_ still go back to the fire nation. He technically hadn't been anything but a failure, but if he joined them... he could kiss his whole nation goodbye.

"Hey," Katara nudged him slightly. He was surprised at how quickly she put on and took off her anger. It was _almost_ as fast as his own mood changes. He was slightly impressed.

"Yes?" he pursed his lips instead of snapping. It had just been his instinct to snap at his uncle whenever he showed concern for him. Zuko didn't like showing weakness, and his uncle understood that. He didn't think Katara would be as understanding.

Indeed, her mouth had turned a little disapproving, but she at least didn't pester him about it. She just talked with her own pursed lips. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh," he blinked, feeling like he shouldn't be so surprised but still was. "Fine," he told her curtly.

He felt her fidget a little. "I wanted to say... to say sorry," Zuko looked at her incredulously. "You know, for making you come with us while you heal. I mean, I know you don't want to- that you want to be away, but I think I can heal you better if you stay for-"

Zuko was only half listening to her. He had still been debating on staying with them(her) for a while, and then maybe try to convince them to find his uncle. But then the girl started talking ridiculously.

"You're not serious, are you?" he cut her off.

Katara blinked at him weirdly. "Of course I am," she sounded confusedly offended, like she wasn't sure if she should be or not.

"I attack you all the time, you heal me, and then _you apologize to me?_" Zuko was so incredulous he got mad. "What is _wrong _with you?"

Even as he yelled at her, he predicted she would get angry right back at him. He was correct.

"Nothing is wrong with me!" she exclaimed, _quite_ indignant. "It's just like you said! I did my best-" she stopped talking and gasped in what Zuko thought was an epiphany. "You care!" she pointed victoriously, and she was so close from supporting his weight that her pointer finger ended maybe an inch away from his eye. "You feel guilty!"

It did nothing but fuel his defensiveness. "I do not! You-" he could see her smile getting smug again, and that irritated him enough that he couldn't stop himself from blurting out the same old rude insult. "I would never care about a _peasant_."

Katara gasped and her big eyes somehow turned even bigger. She didn't insult him back—he wished she did—but instead turned her head away, keeping him from seeing it. She hadn't stopped supporting him either, and he really wished she'd done that too.

Zuko had never felt guiltier.

Unaware of it at first, he noticed that his body had started to do a weird guilty shuffle. It was like his body had way too much guilt running through it, and it didn't know what to do with it.

In a way, this was true. He never truly felt guilty. His dad and sister were both insane and made him feel like a complete fool all the time—but not guilty. He had loved his mom and always did what she said, so he didn't have any cause for guilt. He _sometimes_ felt a little guilty with uncle Iroh, but the old coot was so resilient that Zuko knew all his grumpiness rolled right off uncle. And he didn't really give a shit about anyone else.

At least until now.

His hands were twitching now, and his mouth was opening and closing. A little part of him(it was much larger than he was happy with) wanted to apologize. It was practically boiling out of him, and he had to forcefully close his mouth every time it opened, ready to say _sorry_. The rest of him obstinately said not to. It was to his eternal shame that the first part was starting to win.

Words started to come out of his mouth, unbidden, "I-" He managed to swallow the rest, but it just kept coming back up with a vengeance. "I'm-" again, he stopped himself before he finished.

Katara was looking at him again, probably just reflexively paying attention to someone talking. He turned away, because looking at her made it even harder to stop the torrent of words pushing up his throat.

"I'm s-s-s-"

"Wow," Katara interrupted him, and he was somehow irritated about being interrupted, even though he was thankful for it at the same time. "Don't hurt yourself..."

Zuko just growled at her.

"Have you never apologized in your life?" she asked disbelievingly.

"I wasn't gonna apologize," he immediately denied.

With what looked like reluctance, her lips formed a small smile. He stared at it for some reason. Probably because he hadn't seen a girl's smile so close in like... ever.

"It's a useful skill, you know," she told him offhandedly, probably thinking she was being sly. "It takes a lot of courage to say it."

He leveled his most unimpressed look on her. "And it would take even more stupidity for that to work on me."

Her face fell. "Just try it. It won't hurt you." Her voice was annoyingly condescending, though it didn't look like she was doing it on purpose. "Sorry. Say it with me. _Saw._.." she waved her free hand encouragingly. He stubbornly kept his mouth shut. "_Ree._ You can do it."

The whole thing: her encouraging tone, her hopeful smile, her big amused eyes... it all made him want to say it. He didn't know how it actually worked, but-

No. He knew how it worked. He knew what her act of kindness, getting rid of that scar, did to him. He decided to just stop fighting it.

He could argue with himself that she was a stubborn, bossy, annoying, filthy peasant, but that wouldn't change the fact that he felt immensely indebted to her. That he felt _hopeful again_.

He could accept now that he would never be able to take the avatar while she was against it. As long as she disagreed with him, his guilt—his sense of honor—would never allow him to go against her. He didn't even want to. Yet he felt hopeful. He wouldn't go against her... but maybe he could convince her otherwise.

The girl wasn't completely stupid. She had beat him at the north pole, she had been skilled enough to heal him... she could see logic. If he went about it carefully, he could make her see the error of her ways and realize that it would be best for the world if the avatar was captured. He would tell her about how the fire nation would bring peace to the world once it won the war. How it would share its prosperity with everyone.

She wouldn't be able to deny it. She would help him find his uncle, the three of them would capture the avatar, and then they would all go to the firenation together. He could get his honor back, he would eventually become firelord, he'd be able to pay Katara back for what she did, he could banish Azula...

It even sounded ridiculous in his head.

Except banishing Azula. That actually sounded very sensible.

Even planning to change her mind felt shameful, in a way. It all culminated in him wanting to apologize to her more than ever. For snapping at her. For attacking her over and over. For tying her to a tree. For attacking her some more. For going and wrecking her village all the way back when they first met.

He had a lot to make up to her.

His mouth was open to give his first(and hopefully only) apology to anyone not firenation, when the avatar interrupted him. "GUYS!" he screamed. Both Zuko and Katara whirled around to look at the little panting monk. He had apparently been trying to get their attention for a while now.

Zuko didn't really bother talking to him, so it was up to Katara to respond. "What is it Aang?"

The kid looked more annoyed than Zuko had ever seen him. And he looked distinctly jealous. "I saw light over there, we're close to the exit." As he kept talking, his voice picked up and he sounded more and more happy about that.

"That's great!" Katara enthused. "Why don't you go find out and tell us. I'd rather not... move Zuko too fast." Before she had finished the sentence, the kid had sped off. Zuko was still jealous of how fast airbenders were.

"YES! THIS IS IT!" they heard the shout. "SOKKA'S HERE TOO!"

Zuko felt Katara sag a little under him, and when he glanced at her she looked visibly relieved. She must have been worried about her idiot brother.

If Zuko was related to him, he'd worry too, with how stupid her brother was.

At the same time, they both started to walk down, and then simultaneously stopped. Zuko glanced at her and saw that she showed the same hint of hesitation that he was feeling. Sure, he sort of agreed to join them(he didn't protest her bossing)... but now he had to actually go and join them.

For some reason, he found that extra scary.

"Sokka's going to flip when he sees you," she commented, still not moving either.

"Yeah."

"He might try to attack you," she warned him.

"Probably," he agreed. "But I can take him."

Katara rolled her eyes at him in a very exasperated way. How she could be so exasperated was a mystery to him. They hadn't been together for more than an hour. "You're injured," she told him flatly. "And I would rather you not fight my brother again."

He grimaced at the reminder. It brought his spirits down, that he had been mulling over joining her when he hadn't even apologized yet. That particular courage left him though, so he tried to change the subject. "You can protect me then."

Katara froze and looked at him. He froze and would have looked at himself weirdly if he could. He was surprised not only at letting someone protect him, but just at joking at all.

Just as the embarrassment was about to make him say something rude, Katara stopped looking so surprised and looked just _delighted_. He found his embarrassment be swallowed down. Feelings he had buried came rushing back to him.

Feeling protected. He hadn't felt that since his mom. Is that why he just couldn't be rude to Katara? Did she just remind him of his mom? A browner, shorter, bossier version of his mom?

Maybe.

At least at that moment, when she looked as if she would gladly fight Azula if she made any move to hurt Zuko.

A little hesitation seemed to creep on her. "Are you sure? You won't get er.. mad?"

"Why would I get mad!?" Rather than get mad at his snappish tone, Katara kept a blank face. She didn't do more than raise one eyebrow the slightest amount. It was as if answering that question with anything more than that minimal amount was a waste of energy. He had to concede that point. "Don't answer that," he said quickly.

Katara gave a big great fortifying sigh and said, "come on. Let's go tell them."

Zuko dragged his feet the short walk there.

* * *

Katara watched as Zuko and Sokka bickered.

The meeting had not gone well.

She had expected that, of course, but even she couldn't expect just how ridiculously Sokka would react. On the other hand, Zuko reacting ridiculously wasn't that big a surprise.

She remembered that the start had been so promising, too...

She noticed Zuko dragging his feet when they were walking out, and had to hide a smile. It was amazing how different he looked now. He used to be such an angry jerk, with a perpetual scowl on his face. Now, he mostly looked weary, and maybe a little depressed. But besides that, he showed an almost normal spectrum of emotions.

He used to be so fearsome, fiercely commanding his troops to relentlessly attack them. Seeing him hesitating and dragging his feet like a little kid was, well, almost cute. Definitely funny.

"Aang is on your side, at least," Katara couldn't help but try and reassure him a little.

"Who's Aang?"

Katara gaped at him for a few seconds until it hit her that he was trying to make a joke. She did not know it was possible for Zuko to have a sense of humor.

"Funny," she deadpanned. At least he hadn't fought her on staying with them, not that he really could, with his injuries.

They both took a deep breath and stepped out onto the light. It took her almost a full minute to be able to see after getting so used to the dimness of the cave. From Zuko's hisses, he was going through the same thing. She spent the whole time blinking and putting various objects in front of her eyes to get some soothing shade on them.

When she could finally pay attention to the world around her, she saw the singing nomads from before a little far off and Sokka right next to her. He had apparently been complaining to her the whole time. "...and I had to spend _hours_ with them while you were just saving some random guy that you found... couldn't you have just brought him out here and saved him then... then there were giant moles and I had to sing!.."

Katara gave him a queer look and glanced back at Zuko, who had a determinedly blank expression on. Sokka hadn't even recognized him. It really hit her then, just how different he looked without his scar and ponytail.

"...who is this anyways?" Sokka finally stopped talking.

She breathes a sigh of relief at the quiet and then realized what he had asked. With some trepidation, she decided to just say it quickly. "It's Zuko."

Sokka frowned and stared at Zuko. Then he got right up in Zuko's face, leaving maybe an inch of space between them. Zuko was suitably creeped out and tried to back away. Katara still had a supporting arm on his waist, so all that Zuko accomplished was almost making her fall.

"Huh," Sokka said. "He _does_ look remarkably like him. Except for the ugly scar and ponytail."

Katara sighed. "It's really Zuko, I healed the scar."

"You couldn't do that," Sokka scoffed. "You skipped most of the healing classes."

Just as Katara was about to get irate over the comment, Zuko decided to speak up.

"Apparently, she can."

That was all he said. That was all it took for Sokka to flip.

Zuko has a very distinctive voice, and Katara was painfully aware of it at that moment. It's a very raspy and low voice. The distinctive thing about his voice was how young it sounded, despite its deepness. That, in combination with the raspiness that she assumed only came from breathing a lot of firebending smoke, made for an extremely distinguishable voice. She would be able to pick it out of a crowd with ease.

So could Sokka, apparently.

"Ah!" Sokka yelled, throwing himself dramatically backwards. He landed on his butt a good dozen feet away, and then he kept doing a weird crab-walk-scramble away from them. Katara found it all very comically dramatic.

Until Sokka got an ugly look on his face. Then it wasn't so comical.

With an angry yell, Sokka pulled out his boomerang and tried to hit Zuko with a lunging throw. There was really no other way to describe it. He had really thrown his whole body into it.

There were a few things wrong with that. First of all, and probably the most important to her, was that Zuko wasn't wearing armor like every other time they had fought. When Sokka had landed that throw back in the South Pole, Zuko had been wearing a helmet. The boomerang hit his head and maybe left a bump at most. Zuko didn't have anything on now, and that boomerang was _sharp_. Sokka probably didn't think about it, but that throw was a lethal throw. Katara would have to lecture him on trying to kill people like that, especially injured people.

Also, Katara was rather physically close to Zuko, holding him up and everything. That meant that Sokka had either completely forgotten that Katara could get hurt, was too confident of his aim, or just plain didn't care. She hoped it was the first one, that he didn't notice in his rage, and really hoped it wasn't the last one because she knew he loved her. She suspected it was the second one; Sokka had always been unfoundedly cocky about his boomerang. And that brought her to the last thing that was wrong with his decision.

Sokka was an idiot.

He had completely messed up his throw.

While it had been aimed at Zuko, Sokka had thrown it slightly angled. Mid flight, it started to veer toward Katara's head instead. She had been too shocked at his brother almost killing her to react. She should have. She was a master bender, and on any other day it would've been extremely easy to water whip the boomerang out of the air. Then, though, she hadn't been able to move.

She hadn't been hit though. Help came from the most unexpected source.

Well, maybe not _the_ most unexpected. After all, she _really_ didn't expect the nomads to realize someone had thrown something, let alone be able to move there so fast after however many drugs they must have done in their life.

No, it was _Zuko_ who saved her. One moment she was looking at a flying boomerang of death, the next her face was covered by a bloody, smoke-smelling shoulder. Warm arms completely engulfed her. For a second, the boomerang, Sokka trying to kill her, all the weirdness over Zuko... it all went away. Even now, she couldn't say exactly where it all went. Maybe Zuko's ashy smell was toxic or something, because she stopped thinking for a bit.

Yeah. That's what it probably was. She breathed in the ash all over him and got high on it, and _that_ was the only reason that her brain went into happyland with muscles and nice smelling older boys with muscles and-

Ash!

Yes. It was the ash.

That's what it was.

Then again, it was too quick for her to even tell what she felt completely right. It had only been for a second that she had been blissfully unaware of everything when Zuko started cursing. _Right in her ear._

It took her a few seconds to stop being cross at him to realize what he had just done for her. After that, she'd fussed all over him, thanking him, trying to heal his back, and freezing Sokka to the ground.

It was all very dramatic.

At least Zuko hadn't been mad at her, just her brother, which she found agreeable. Even while he was cursing up and down all four nations at Sokka, she noticed that it was all very specific to him. Whenever something about peasantry or igloos came up in his very long tirade, he would phrase it in a way that would only insult him, and not her.

Ignoring the obvious bigotry against her people, it made her a little happy that he was being a little sensitive to her, at least. And she couldn't blame him cursing Sokka. Even if it was for a _very_ long time.

In fact, it had been almost an hour since the very-dramatic-lunge-throw and they were still bickering.

"...and you're an ugly jerk with an ugly face and an ugly nation-" Sokka had clearly used up all his wit and had started to repeat himself.

"-and you're a shit warrior who I disarmed and beat without even bending!" Katara was just getting used to how often Zuko cursed. She hadn't really been around that many people that cursed, besides the occasional one from her gran-gran. She offhandedly noticed Aang was covering his ears whenever Zuko did it.

"...and an ugly ship and an ugly red color and an ugly uncle-"

"Hey!" Zuko's face changed from petulant and annoyed to angry. Angry like he always used to be. "Don't talk about my uncle!"

Katara saw this might get ugly, so she tried to intervene.

"Sokka!" Katara finally snapped. For a brief second, Sokka went quiet while Zuko looked just a tad smug. "Will you shut up about it if Zuko apologizes for everything he did?"

She noticed both boys' expression switch completely. Zuko was now looking at her in incredulousness and disgruntlement, while Sokka looked smug. The only difference was that Sokka was not trying to hide said smugness the least bit.

Her stare was focused on Sokka, expectant for an answer. "I can do that," Sokka practically purred at Zuko.

She switched her gaze to Zuko, who was clearly grumbling under his breath. When she raised an eyebrow, he seemed to wilt in defeat.

Really, he was such a softy.

"Sorry," he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, opening maybe a fourth of it at best. His gaze had been at his foot and the pronouncement was even accompanied with a petulant shrug. Katara stifled a laugh at the most insincere apology she'd ever heard. Zuko topped it by lifting his eyes and looking at Sokka, adding on, "but only a little, and only vaguely."

Katara lost it and started laughing at the disappointment in Sokka's face. He'd been outsmarted so badly, and she had to admit her brother was pretty smart.

She should've known he'd come up with something.

Sokka crossed his arms and petulantly said, "Fine, fine. I'll shut up about it." Then started making wild hand gestures, which both she and Zuko had to duck to avoid. He pointed his finger in great windmill arcs, then mime cutting his own neck. Then he started wiggling his finger in a scolding fashion at Zuko, turn around and act like he was picking up something heavy, then throwing it overboard the saddle. He then slapped his hands clean and threw himself on the floor, pretending to sleep very peacefully.

If she got it all right, he was saying that Zuko was going to kill them in their sleep so they should throw him overboard now and go to sleep afterward.

She was openly impressed at his miming skills and could even tell that Zuko was as well(though he was trying to hide it). "Okay, okay," she stopped him with a laugh. "Zuko, please, if you apologize properly he'll leave us alone." When she noticed how that sounded, she blushed slightly. Never before had she been so glad of her dark skin.

Thankfully, no one else seemed to think anything of it. Zuko heaved a great big sigh. His brow furrowed in thought and then cleared suddenly. His face took on a _very_ passable apologetic look. It was hands down his best acting so far. He looked at her brother and said, "Sokka." And he paused, and Katara thought that he had used up all of his willpower in saying the one word politely.

Then he switched his gaze to her.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, but his face was _completely_ apologetic. Seeing Zuko apologize was such a rare event that she wasn't completely sure what his face should look like when contrite. She couldn't fully be sure that it was right.

But it certainly seemed sorry.

His gaze on her, and the feeling it showed, it had her heart beating a little faster. It mostly made her protective instincts go into overdrive. She didn't know it was _possible_ for Zuko to look that sincere.

That settled it for her. She wasn't going to let him leave after he was healed. Zuko was joining them permanently, she would make sure of that.


End file.
